


let's be winners by mistake

by lunasenzanotte



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Circus, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Arranged Marriage, Circus, First Love, Forbidden Love, Historical Inaccuracy, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Minor Violence, Multi, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23986375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunasenzanotte/pseuds/lunasenzanotte
Summary: When the circus comes into town, Dominic falls in love with Sascha, a boy from the circus. Little does he know, Sascha is promised to someone else, and the circus doesn't intend to let him go...
Relationships: Andrey Rublev/Alexander Zverev, Dominic Thiem/Alexander Zverev
Comments: 14
Kudos: 24





	let's be winners by mistake

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write a Circus AU forever... which explains why this has turned into a monster.
> 
> The story is vaguely inspired by a Czech lyrical epic poem Romance pro křídlovku (Romance for Flugelhorn) by František Hrubín, and the movie made based on the poem. 
> 
> The lyrics are from the song Lonesome Traveller by Anita Lipnicka & John Porter.

**Summer of 1923**

_I don't know where you came from  
_ _You just stepped into the light  
_ _Said that we're all travellers  
_ _On this dusty road called Life_

From time to time, when everything is set and done, Sascha likes to disappear and explore the towns and villages they visit. The others usually stay right where they park their wagons and build the Big Top. But he likes to walk around the towns, talk to the people, and pretend he’s one of them. He never quite fits in, but it’s his little make believe.

It’s not like he doesn’t like the circus. He doesn’t know anything else, all of his friends are there, all of his life is there. But sometimes, he dreams of a house that stands firmly on the ground, of something that would anchor him. Of staying instead of leaving every week or two.

This is the first time they are in this town, and it takes him a long time to find his way around. When he arrives at the marketplace, the sun is already high and the place is buzzing.

Sascha wanders around for a while. He’s not interested in the apples and cherries, he can have them whenever he wants. There are many trees lining the roads they travel down, all he’s ever had to do was to climb them and take as much as he wanted. If there’s something he’s never been able to resist, and could spend whatever little money he had on, it was the pastries and tarts. These were beyond what they were able to cook and bake over the fire or on the little stoves that they traveled with.

When he finally finds a stand that sells pastries, he just stops and stares. He’s always thought that baking pastries was art, but this is different. This is pure witchcraft. He wants to taste everything, from the jam-filled cakes and sugar-sprinkled doughnuts to the golden pastries filled with apples and cookies that look like crescent moons.

“Boy!” a woman’s voice tears him out of his thoughts. “Boy! Will you have anything?”

Sascha lifts his eyes from the delicious sight in front of him and looks at the seller.

“I… I don’t know what to have,” he says.

“Well, I don’t have all day.” The woman looks impatient, and when Sascha glances over his shoulder, there are other people waiting. This stand seems to be popular, and he’s not surprised.

Just when he’s ready to step away and not buy anything, just because he’s afraid he’d pick the wrong thing, and because he’s embarrassed about not being able to buy much, a boy steps out from the back of the stand and smiles at him.

“Let me help you,” he says.

~ ~ ~

Dominic comes to the market nearly every day now. He’s been learning the trade since he was a boy, and until recently, he would help his father around the bakery, but with the years, his aunt, who sold their goods at the market, has been losing the strength to pull the cart herself. And after a group of vagabonds mugged her one evening when she was returning home from the market, stole the day’s earnings and damaged the cart, his father decided Dominic would accompany her. His younger brother took his place in the bakery. Not like Dominic has ever complained, but sometimes he envies him. Spending the days with his aunt isn’t what he’s dreamt of when he imagined his future.

When he sees the boy, he’s immediately intrigued. It’s like watching a child in a man’s body. He looks at their products like he’s seeing a miracle. After Dominic pulls him aside and questions him on his tastes, he buys a bag of vanilla cookies, something usually picked by children.

“I’ve never seen you here,” Dominic says, abandoning their stand for a moment while his aunt chats with the woman from the fruit stand next to theirs, and hiding in the shade of the fountain in the middle of the square.

“I’m not from here,” the boy says.

“And where are you from?”

“Everywhere and nowhere,” the boy smiles, and suddenly, it makes sense. Dominic catches the little details, his strange accent, the clothes that are a strange fashion, the layers of golden chains on his neck, the hair that is too long and too wild to be socially acceptable.

“You’re… with the circus.”

The boy nods and offers Dominic his hand. “Sascha.”

“Dominic,” Dominic says and shakes it. “Sascha, that’s…”

“Russian. It’s Alexander, but the problem is, almost everyone is called Alexander. So I’m Sascha.”

“I’ve never been to a circus,” Dominic says. “We’ve never had one here. I remember there was one in the neighboring town a few years ago, but I never went.”

“That wasn’t us,” Sascha says. “We’ve never been around here. But you should come.”

“What do you do? I mean… at the circus.”

Sascha narrows his eyes. “I won’t tell you,” he says. “You’ll have to come and see for yourself.”

Dominic shrugs. He’s convinced his parents would tell him circus was for children. Not like he couldn’t go without asking, but he’s hesitant to spend his money on something like that.

“Maybe I will,” he says and gets up. “I have to go.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Sascha smiles, and something about that smile or the words makes Dominic’s heart beat at a speed he hasn’t felt it beat before.

~ ~ ~

When he comes back, the circus is already alive, with children and curious girls milling around the cages and the fortune teller’s tent. Sascha looks at the blond boy standing at the carousel, surrounded by a flock of children.

“Denis! You’re not letting kids on the carousel when they don’t have money _again_ , are you?” he smirks.

“And you haven’t spent all day wandering around the town instead of practicing your act _again_ , have you?” Denis asks with a charming smile.

Sascha has to laugh. _Baby is growing up._

“I don’t tell on you, you don’t tell on me,” he says and puts the last piece of a vanilla cookie in Denis’ mouth.

“Deal,” Denis smiles, picks up a little girl and sits her on a painted wooden horse before hopping onto the platform himself and switching the carousel on.

The organ starts to play the song Sascha has heard so many times in his life that he knows it as well as his own heartbeat. It feels like waking up from a dream. For most people, circus is like a dream, but for him, it’s the opposite. Perhaps because he knows all the ugly sides of it.

He enters the big top, finding his friends Andrey, Daniil, Karen and Daria, Daniil’s fiancée and target girl, in the middle of a heated argument.

“What is going on here?” Sascha asks.

“Daniil has decided to heed Marat’s advice and set his knives on fire before throwing them,” Karen explains. “And Daria is refusing to let him throw them at her.”

Sascha can’t say that he blames her. Knives are one thing, but fire is another.

“We already have one dragon,” he says. “Leave the fire to Marat.”

Daniil makes a face. “Everyone’s seen this act already. I have to take it up a notch, the ringmaster said so! It’s not dangerous!”

“Of course it is!” Daria yells at him. “That’s why people watch it!”

“Not more dangerous than the usual act, that’s what I meant to say.”

“No. I’m not doing that,” Daria says. “I haven’t even seen anyone do that, I don’t want to burn alive, Jesus!”

“At least let me try it!” Daniil whines. “You’ll see it’s not dangerous.”

“Or I’ll die!” she snaps. “You wish.”

Andrey sighs and takes off his shirt. Sascha blinks. “What… are you doing?” he asks when Andrey hands the shirt to him.

Andrey stands at the board and gives Daniil a nod. “Go ahead.”

Now, Daniil looks a bit nervous, which is not a usual sight. “Man, you’re the ringmaster’s son and heir! What if I kill you?”

“Didn’t you say it wasn’t dangerous?” Daria asks in a sweet voice.

Daniil shoots a glance at her, and then grabs his fan of knives and lights the handles up. Sascha feels his pulse rise. Daniil always throws by the handle, not by the blade. He figures that it’s impossible to set the blade on fire, but it still makes him nervous.

“Andrey, arms up!” Daria calls.

“I can’t watch this,” Karen says and turns away.

Daniil takes aim and sends the first knife flying. As it hits the board and keeps burning, Sascha can imagine this could become the highlight of the show, and understands why he’s so eager to do this. It’s hard to show something people haven’t seen before. But it has also always bothered him that they were willing to go the lengths that sometimes weren’t worth it.

The fourth knife hits the board handle first, bounces off and falls to the ground. Andrey flinches.

“That’s quite enough!” the ringmaster’s voice sounds from the entrance. “Have you all lost your minds? Andrey!”

“I needed to see if it worked, what was I supposed to do?” Daniil objects.

“What is next? You’ll let Denis throw the knives?”

“He’d certainly like that,” Karen smirks.

“I thought at least some of you had common sense, but apparently I can trust none of you,” the ringmaster says. “If I see you do such stunts ever again, I’ll kick you out of here. All of you.”

“He’s right,” Sascha says and hands Andrey his shirt back. “He could have killed you.”

Andrey looks him in the eyes and smiles sadly.

“But still you didn’t stop me,” he says and walks past him.

~ ~ ~

Sascha loves the evening shows. They usually don’t sell out the show, unlike the afternoon ones, where mostly children come with their parents. Not many adults want to go back to their childhood. But when it’s dark, everything looks more mysterious. Almost like the magic is real magic.

He is standing at the entrance, checking the tickets. It’s one of his many jobs. After all, everyone has more than one. It has to be that way. The circus can only feed as many people, and there is always so much work to be done. Since Sascha is one of the youngest, he usually gets the work nobody else wants. Also, even though the two circuses that they used to be have merged almost completely, Sascha still can’t shake off the feeling that his father’s people are the ones being taken less seriously here.

He rips another ticket in half and then looks up. Dominic is smiling at him.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” Sascha says. “You’re really here.”

“The curiosity won me over,” Dominic says. “I’m here just to see your number.”

Sascha laughs. “I hope it will be worth your money, then,” he says.

Someone smacks him over the head lightly. He turns around and looks at Marat, the fire breather, and thanks God he held his tongue and didn’t curse the person off. It wouldn’t sit well with the star of the show.

“Cut the talk, there are people waiting,” Marat says and brushes past him to go backstage, offering the astounded people in the line a peek at the dragon tattoo covering his entire back.

Sascha turns to Dominic. “Sorry, I… it’s quite busy now. I’ll meet you after the show.”

Dominic nods and disappears in the stands. Sascha rips a few more tickets, then he pulls the curtains shut and closes the tent. He keeps searching the crowd with his eyes.

“What’s up?” Andrey asks and throws an arm around his shoulders. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“No, that’s your thing,” Sascha smiles, feeling the weight lift off his shoulders. He hates when grudges stay between them. Unfortunately, he never quite knows how to apologize for not being what he should be, or not doing what he should do.

“Let’s go backstage,” Andrey says. “Marat is being grumpy again.”

“Yeah,” Karen grins, joining them in front of the curtain separating the backstage from the ring. “The famous Russian dragon!”

Andrey and Sascha giggle at his imitation of the ringmaster’s voice, and walk backstage.

~ ~ ~

Sascha is waiting for Dominic behind the now dark ticket booth. When he jumps out of the shadows, Dominic almost startles.

“Did you like it?” Sascha asks. “If not, just this once, I’ll return your money.”

“I did,” Dominic smiles. “I… don’t know if I expected you to be a juggler, but…”

Sascha laughs. “What did you think I would do? I’m too tall for nearly everything.”

Now that is not untrue. He’s so tall that Dominic feels like he could get lost in his embrace, and Dominic is by no means short himself. When he looks at him, he thinks of the Russian fairy tales he’s once heard at school where, for some reason, they had a book of them. Sascha is exactly what he imagined the heroes in those stories to look like. The fair hair framing his face with features so different from his own, and the striking blue eyes.

“I’m glad you’re not the target for the knife throwing, at least,” Dominic shrugs.

Sascha laughs again. “I wouldn’t mind it that much, actually. Daniil has never missed… or just once, and that doesn’t count.”

“Daniil is the knife thrower?”

Sascha nods. “He’s my friend. And also Karen, with the tigers, and Andrey, the magician.”

“Oh, yeah,” Dominic smiles. “That one creeps me out a little bit.”

They walk a bit further from the buzzing crowd leaving the tent. Dominic looks around curiously. He can’t imagine a life like this, calling a wagon his home, waking up in a different town or land every week.

“His father owns the circus,” Sascha says. “And he’s actually not creepy. It’s just that he doesn’t like pulling rabbits out of hats, you know.”

“When he conjured that rose, gave it to the girl in the audience and said her name, that was creepy!” Dominic says. “How on earth did he know her name?”

Sascha shrugs. “None of us know how he does the tricks. A magician never reveals his tricks. I mean, some are pretty cheap and obvious, but…”

Someone calls Sascha’s name and Sascha turns around quickly, gesturing to them.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” he says.

“Can I see you tomorrow?” Dominic asks. “I mean… in the morning or…”

“Don’t you have to go to the market?” Sascha asks.

“It’s Sunday.”

“Oh,” Sascha laughs. “I never know what day it is. Yes… morning is fine. In the afternoon, it’s probably going to be busy here, but no one’s going to miss me in the morning.”

“I’ll wait for you in front of the church,” Dominic says. “Good night.”

He starts down the road, but turns back just in time to see another man tell Sascha something with an angry gesture, and then shove him forward. Dominic’s whole being wants to run back, but something tells him he shouldn’t get involved with things he doesn’t understand and people he doesn’t know.

With one last glance over his shoulder, he starts walking faster.

~ ~ ~

When Sascha arrives in front of the church, which is so tall it’s visible even from the place they built the big top, Dominic is already waiting there. He’s wearing a light shirt and a vest, and a straw hat. Sascha has to smile. He would almost fit in with the circus.

“This is for you,” he says and hands Sascha a paper bag. “If you don’t mind they’re from yesterday.”

Sascha opens the bag and looks at the vanilla cookies.

“Thank you,” he says. “You didn’t have to…”

“They would lie around anyway, and then my aunt would throw them to the hens,” Dominic smiles. “If you spend all days baking them, you don’t feel like eating them anymore.”

“I could eat them all days long,” Sascha sighs.

Dominic takes his hand as they walk past the corn fields, and Sascha lets him. Somehow, this feels right. Good. Anchoring. 

“Did you get in trouble for talking to me last night?” Dominic asks. “I saw…”

“I get in trouble all the time,” Sascha smiles. “Don’t worry about it.”

They arrive at a stream, almost hidden by the high grass growing on the banks. They can still see the last houses of the village, and the Big Top in the distance, but it’s perfectly silent there, save for the water running and birds singing. They sit by the stream, watching the water swirl around the rocks. The warm breeze is caressing the locks of Sascha’s hair gently.

“Aren’t you afraid to wear all of that?” Dominic asks, playing with the chains and pendants around Sascha’s neck.

Sascha frowns. “Afraid? Why?”

“It’s like you’re wearing all your money. I don’t know, I’d be afraid someone’s going to murder me and steal it. I have one pocket watch I inherited from my grandfather, and I’ve never worn it. I was afraid of losing it.”

Sascha laughs. “I guess it’s a Russian thing.”

“Russian,” Dominic repeats. “Russia must be beautiful.”

He saw a picture once… He doesn’t know what place it was, but it looked like a palace from a fairy-tale.

“I don’t know,” Sascha shrugs. “I don’t remember it. The last time we were there, I couldn’t even talk yet. We left because in Russia, traveling circuses were no longer popular, they became some sort of high entertainment, not at all what we do. And my father refused to give it up. So we had to go.”

He doesn’t remember any of it. All he has are stories. His father wasn’t ready to sacrifice the circus. So he sacrificed his home instead. Their home. And Sascha’s brother never forgave him for that.

“Still, it must be amazing to see so much of the world,” Dominic sighs. “So many different places. The furthest I’ve ever been is two towns away from here.”

“Sometimes, I wish I could stay,” Sascha says. “Belong somewhere. With someone.”

“But probably not here, in some God-forgotten town,” Dominic smiles.

“I’d gladly stay here. With you.”

He knows that it’s crazy, given that he doesn’t know the boy at all, but he feels that this is different from the other one week friendships. Because he feels good with Dominic. Somehow he knows that when they eventually leave, he will miss him. It feels like he is the small certainty in his uncertain world in which he always has to leave, and when he comes back a year or two later, nobody remembers him.

He inches closer, waiting for Dominic to pull away. When he doesn’t, Sascha ducks under the brim of his hat and captures his lips in a kiss.

When Sascha opens his eyes again, his heart stops for a moment. There is a familiar figure standing on the other other side of the stream.

He quickly pulls Dominic down into the high grass, but something’s telling him the damage is already done.

“Who was that?” Dominic asks when they are alone again.

“Veronika,” Sascha says. “From the circus. The equestrienne. Karen’s fiancée.”

“Do you think she saw us?”

“Maybe,” Sascha says, lying on his back in the grass.

“And if she did?”

Sascha closes his eyes, willing himself to calm down before speaking again. “Don’t worry about it,” he says then.

~ ~ ~

When he returns to their wagon, his father is standing on the stairs, waiting for him. By one look at him, Sascha knows that Veronika didn’t keep what she saw at the stream to herself. He can only guess that she told Karen, and word spread like wildfire.

“Where were you?” his father asks.

“I just went for a walk,” Sascha says, and quickly closes his eyes before the slap that lands on his face.

His father keeps looking at him, like he’s waiting for Sascha to apologize. When he understands that no apology is coming, he sighs, closes the door of the wagon and sits on the bed.

“Sascha…” he says. “You can’t. You know that you can’t.”

“Why?”

“You know why,” his father says.

_Sascha remembers the deal. He was a boy back then. They joined Andrey’s father’s circus for the first time that summer, the summer after Mischa left and everything went south. Sascha was mesmerized by it. Everything was bigger, louder, more glamorous. He didn’t care as much about the money the circus was making, or the fact that they traveled more and had many more people come to their shows. The charm was in the small things that were so important to him as a child. They had a small carousel that would make them small money alongside the shows, and while it was intended for the children of the towns they visited, at night, it belonged to the children from the circus. And for the first time ever, Sascha had friends. There were no children his age at his father’s circus, and suddenly, there were so many. Daniil, the oldest of them all, who constantly played with knives, spinning them between his fingers, throwing them at wooden targets and trying to convince people to let him throw the knives at them. Karen, who loved the tigers and knew everything about them. And Andrey, the quiet one, who knew all the card tricks there were, and who would conjure paper flowers seemingly out of thin air and give them to Sascha._

_He wasn’t supposed to overhear that conversation, but a curious kid as he was, when he couldn’t sleep and heard voices from outside their wagon, he opened the door quietly and peeked out, hidden in the shadows._

_His father and Andrey’s father were sitting by the fire outside. There was a bottle between them and both were holding shot glasses._

_“You’ve never feared hard work, and the boy looks like he’s going to take after you,” Andrey’s father said._

_“Oh yes, Sascha…” Sascha’s father sighed. “It’s his brother who didn’t turn out quite how I expected him to.”_

_Andrey’s father laughed shortly and poured vodka into their glasses. “Children are like tigers, you know. Some cannot be tamed.”_

_“You’re not the one to complain,” Sascha’s father said. “Your son didn’t run away. He doesn’t talk back. And he’s so gifted… I’d lie if I said I know how he does half of the tricks he knows. He’s not going to ruin you like my son ruined me.”_

_“Alexander…” Andrey’s father said and leaned closer to him. “My offer still stands. You have another son. Don’t forget about that.”_

_Sascha almost forgot to breathe. It all clicked, suddenly he understood why they were here. He’d heard about it, the unions between clans._

_“Stay with us,” Andrey’s father said. “The boys will be fine together.”_

_Sascha’s father nodded slowly, and then shook Andrey’s father’s hand._

“I thought… I thought it was in the past!” Sascha says. “Everything works now, they don’t need the deal anymore! They know we’re not going to leave!”

His father shakes his head. “I gave him my word. And words have to be kept. That’s the law here.”

Sascha sits on the other bed and covers his face with his hands. His father sits next to him.

“Sascha, I lost your brother,” he says softly. “I’m not going to lose both of you.”

“But you’re not losing me!” Sascha objects.

“Yes, I would lose you. And not just you. This deal is just as fragile as your relationship with Andrey, and if you break that, you break the deal. We’re going to lose everything. We’re nothing by ourselves. We’ve lost way too much. We need them. Who’s going to watch a circus that has dancing poodles as its main number?” he asks. “Sascha. I know it hurts. But that’s how it is.”

“But I’m not in love with Andrey,” Sascha whispers. “I… I like him, as a friend. But I don’t love him.”

For a moment, he thinks that his father will understand. But then the fleeting moment of softness in his face is gone, and he clips Sascha on the shoulder. “You’ll learn,” he says and walks out.

~ ~ ~

Sascha doesn’t leave their wagon until he hears the organ from the carousel. As he walks around, he feels everyone’s eyes on him. Some of the looks are worried, some are pitying, some are straight up angry. And still, he feels like he’s the one that’s the most angry there.

He’s not mad at Andrey. After all, same as him, Andrey had no say in this. And same as him, he couldn’t quite object. They live by different laws here. Promises have to be kept, and a father’s word is sacred.

There is only one difference between them. The way they feel about it.

The worst thing is that Sascha remembers clearly the day Andrey fell in love with him.

_They were fourteen, and they had a gig in Romania that summer. One evening, a storm came out of nowhere. The wooden crates were flying around like they were feathers. The ground turned into mud within a minute, and into a lake within two, because the soil couldn’t take so much water. Sascha watched from the relative safety of their wagon as everyone was trying to save as much as possible and calm down the animals. Then suddenly, like he woke up from a dream, he realized that he was a part of it all, that it was now also his home. He couldn’t just sit idle. He got up and ran out._

_The rain soaked him to the bone immediately, his shirt stuck to his skin and he shivered. The wind was so strong he had to bend forward to get to the tent. He had never seen such storm before._

_The tent was shaking. Sascha saw Daniil and Karen helping with the animals that they decided to move inside the tent to keep them safe from the rain. Andrey was standing in the middle of the tent, where they had piled up all the equipment. Suddenly, there was a strange noise, and Sascha realized that the pegs that were holding the ropes outside, gave in. Never before had he realized how fragile the tent was. But in that moment, he knew it was going to fall down like a house made of cards, and in that split second before the last ropes broke loose, instead of running out, he ran to Andrey, pulled him to the ground and covered him with his own body._

_Andrey closed his eyes and held onto him for dear life. Sascha heard the poles supporting the tent from the inside fall around them, together with ladders and everything that was in the ring. He heard the frightened voices of the animals, and someone’s scream when one of the poles hit the ground. Then, there was silence._

_Sascha lifted his head carefully. The Big Top now looked like a small tent, with the canvas hanging on the remains of the construction, only a few centimeters above their heads. The rain was hitting it with its steady force. Andrey’s eyes were still screwed shut, and he was shaking. They both were._

_“It’s okay now,” Sascha whispered. “It’s over.”_

_Andrey looked at him, and then lifted his hand and touched Sascha’s face. His fingers came back stained red, and Sascha realized that his brow was bleeding. Then, Andrey threw his arms around his neck and laid his head on Sascha’s shoulder. That was how they found them later._

_The fortune teller, an old Gypsy woman who was with the circus since Sascha could remember, and from what his father said, since_ he _could remember, took them to her wagon. Since they were both shaking from cold and shock, she wrapped them up in embroidered blankets and made them tea, strong black tea flavored with a hint of orange from the orange peel she dried every summer. She had to wrap Andrey’s hands around the cup, so that he wouldn’t drop it._

_“I thought I would die,” Andrey whispered._

_“It wasn’t your time yet, little magician,” she said._

_She put some thick, foul smelling herbal ointment on the wound on Sascha’s brow and looked out of the window at the men trying to clean the worst mess. They would have to wait until morning to see the full damage._

_“I told them not to whistle in the tent,” she muttered under her breath. “I told them it was bad luck.”_

_It was one of the many superstitions they had at the circus, and to Sascha, it always seemed impossible to keep up with all of them. They wouldn’t wear anything green, because it meant bad luck. They always had to enter the ring right foot first. Sitting with one’s back to the ring would turn back good fortune. Moving someone’s wardrobe once it was unpacked would mean the person would leave the show. A bird flying inside the tent meant someone would die._

_There was one superstition Sascha believed was responsible for all his bad luck. Not looking back on the road. It was believed to bring the sadness of the past with the person. Sascha would always look back. And his past was never far away._

_When Sascha walked out of the fortune teller’s wagon, the woman gripped Andrey’s arm and held him back for a moment._

_Whatever she said, Andrey walked out as white as a sheet. He never revealed to Sascha what she told him that night._

~ ~ ~

When it gets dark and the Big Top lights up, Sascha feels like his mind isn’t even there. It feels like time is standing still for him, while everyone else is running around, laughing, joking around, and gathering their props.

“Sascha,” someone says behind him.

Sascha turns around and looks at Denis.

“Don’t think about him now,” Denis says. “Don’t end up like me. Because that’s what I was doing… then.”

For a second, Sascha wants to tell the boy that he has no idea what he is talking about, until he realizes what he means. When he connects the dots and remembers.

_Denis fell in love once, Sascha doesn’t even remember the name of the town they were in. Nobody was giving him the looks they are giving Sascha now. They merely made fun of him being so smitten and distracted, blushing at all the jokes and staring longingly into the distance. They got too used to sticking to their thing instead of keeping an eye on each other, if there was nothing at stake for them. They left the town after a week, and everyone forgot about the episode._

_Everyone but Denis._

_They arrived to yet another town, built the big top in the morning, and took up the routine in the ring. That morning, Denis got on the tightrope above the ring, let his mind wander, and made a wrong step._

_When he closes his eyes, Sascha can still see him lying in the ring like a broken doll._

_The women took turns praying over him, and kept a candle burning day and night. At night, the old Gypsy would chant something in the language no one could understand, and sometimes it sent chills down Sascha’s spine. It sounded like she was arguing with Death, chasing it off._

_By some miracle, he didn’t die. On the Spring Equinox, the Gypsy made him burn the white shroud they had prepared for him. He learned to walk again, to the point that no one could tell now. But he never returned to the tightrope. The balance was gone._

“I know the worst thing that could happen to you would be a ball falling on your head,” Denis says. “It might not kill you, but it might kill your star. And you don’t want to end up at the carousel, feeling like you’re everyone’s burden.”

“You’re not everyone’s burden, Denis,” Sascha whispers.

Denis shakes his head and smiles. “I am, and I know it,” he says. “But there’s only room for one. So get him out of your head now.”

~ ~ ~

When Dominic leaves the circus that night, he’s still lost in thoughts. Even in the semi-darkness and under the layer of powder, he could see the bruise on Sascha’s cheek. Sascha told him not to worry, as always, but Dominic can’t get it out of his mind.

“Hey!” someone calls after him.

Dominic turns around and looks at the three boys from the circus Sascha calls friends. They look different outside the ring. Well, Sascha also looked like an ordinary boy when Dominic met him at the market. All of them seem to be wearing their entire family heirloom around their necks, same as Sascha does. Daniil still looks dangerous, wearing a simple shirt and a leather vest that Dominic is sure is hiding at least one of the knives. But Karen without the whip and golden embroidered clothes looks nothing like someone who has the respect of dangerous animals, and Andrey, without the velvet jacket and all his magic, looks just like a sad boy.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Daniil asks.

Dominic blinks. “I… don’t understand.”

“Sascha,” Karen explains. “You and Sascha. It can’t be.”

“Why?”

“Because Sascha is promised to someone else,” Daniil jumps in, his German much smoother than Karen’s. Dominic isn’t sure if Andrey speaks any German at all, because he’s just standing there, watching the scene like he doesn’t really want to be there.

“Promised?” Dominic repeats incredulously. “As in… Who?”

Instead of answering, both Karen and Daniil turn to look at Andrey.

“We’re not going to stand idle and watch our little brother suffer,” Daniil says. “Nobody takes from him what is rightfully his.”

“Sascha is a person,” Dominic objects. “He doesn’t belong to anyone. He doesn’t belong to me, and he doesn’t belong to… your brother. He can choose himself.”

“Well, here’s the thing, he can’t!” Daniil snaps.

“Look…” Karen says, stepping forward like he wants to protect Dominic in case Daniil grows more aggressive. “It’s nothing against you. We believe you don’t mean anything bad. We just thought you should know.”

“Leave Sascha alone,” Daniil growls. “He’s not for you.”

“We’ll leave in a week, and maybe never come back again,” Karen says. “It’s just going to hurt more.”

Dominic doesn’t say anything, he just turns around and starts down the road leading towards the town. Out of everything they’ve said, Karen’s last words resonate in his mind the most.

~ ~ ~

Sascha comes to the stream in the morning, just like he said he would. His cheek is a bit less swollen and he’s smiling. Dominic marvels at the mood swings, at the way he can look so miserable and hurt, and then a few hours later smile and tell Dominic not to worry.

“I talked to your friends last night,” Dominic says. “Or rather they talked to me.”

Sascha’s lips shiver. “What did they want?”

“They wanted to tell me that I was stealing you from their brother.”

“He’s not their brother,” Sascha says. “That’s just… their thing. They just say that. They call each other that.”

“Well, that doesn’t really change anything,” Dominic says. “You’re promised to him or not?”

“I am,” Sascha sighs. “As I told you, my father owned a circus of his own. Then one day, my older brother fell out with him, and left. Some people left with him, and we were left with ruins of a circus that wouldn’t be able to keep itself alive. Andrey’s father offered to help, offered us to join them. He swallowed us, basically, but kept us alive. And the deal was done on the condition that me and Andrey… you know. To make sure things would stay the way they were.”

“But you don’t want to…”

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” Sascha sighs. “Our future depends on that deal. I… can’t let everyone down.”

Dominic nods, ripping a straw in pieces. “So it’s just like Karen said,” he sighs. “You’ll leave in a week, and maybe never come back again, and it’s all just going to hurt more.”

Sascha lies on his back and covers his face with his hands. “I don’t know. It’s always been like that, and… I want it to be different this time, but… I know who I’m fighting, and I don’t know if I can win,” he says. “But… I also know that I can’t imagine leaving in a few days and never seeing you again.”

“Then run away with me,” Dominic says.

Sascha sits up abruptly. “What?”

Dominic shrugs. “You said you wanted it to be different this time. What else can we do?”

Sascha looks at him. “I…”

“You’re not one of the animals in the cages,” Dominic says. “Don’t let them take you where you don’t want to go.”

Sascha doesn’t answer. He keeps looking at the water and the purple flowers that grow on the banks, but Dominic suspect that he’s not really seeing any of it. There are different images flashing in his mind, and it seems to Dominic that he is in a place so distant it’s completely unreachable.

“I have to go,” he says then, jumps up and runs away before Dominic can say a word.

~ ~ ~

When he comes back, the Big Top is empty. He sits on the edge of the ring, looking at the empty seats, but not really seeing them. There are different images in his mind, the images that came back when Dominic asked him to run away. Suddenly, he was back in their wagon that morning his brother left.

_Mischa argued with their father since Sascha could remember. The arguments got more heated as Mischa got older, obviously. Sascha got used to it so much that he didn’t think it would ever get better or worse. It simply belonged to his days like sunrise and sunset. Even that last evening, it didn’t seem worse than any other time to him._

_But when Mischa woke him up in the early morning, his instincts told him that something was different. He woke him up in that way parents would wake up their children if they wanted to show them something beautiful. Sascha opened his eyes and looked at him sleepily. The sun was just rising, but Mischa was fully dressed._

_“Where are you going?” he asked._

_Mischa just smiled sadly and collected Sascha in his arms. The way he was holding him told Sascha more than words. It was like they were never to see each other again._

_“Where are you going?” Sascha asked again, tears prickling his eyes. “Why don’t you want to tell me?”_

_“Because I don’t know it yet,” Mischa said and held him even closer._

_“Take me with you!”_

_“Sascha,” Mischa sighed. “I’ve just told you. I don’t know where I’m going. I can’t take you with me.”_

_“Come back for me, then,” Sascha said and looked at him. “Promise! Promise you’ll come back for me!”_

_Mischa just smiled sadly. “Be good, okay? Be better than me.”_

_Sascha watched him pick up a satchel from the floor. Mischa turned around one last time._

_“You’ll be a star, little brother,” he said and walked out._

_Sascha never saw him again._

Dominic’s words hurt even more now. The truth is that he _is_ just another caged animal. But he was born in the cage, he doesn’t know anything else. Leaving everything that he knows, everyone he knows, that sounds much more scary than he thought. Freedom scares him more than the cage.

Andrey sits next to him on the edge of the ring. He smells of sweet roasted almonds and cotton candy. His mother sells it before the shows and their wagon has always smelled of it; the almost nauseating sweetness could permeate everything.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “For Karen and Daniil. You know how they are. They feel like they have to protect me from everything. Even you hurting me.”

“I never meant to hurt you,” Sascha whispers.

“I know,” Andrey says. “And I know you’ve always wanted to leave. You’ve always liked to pretend you didn’t belong to us.”

Sascha lowers his eyes. “That’s not true,” he says. “I’ve just… always wanted to know if there was another life out there.”

“There is,” Andrey says softly. “Just not for us.”

Sascha lifts his eyes to him for a moment, and when he lowers them again, Andrey is holding a red paper rose.

“We all have dreams,” he says and hands it to him. “But like everything that happens under the Big Top, they are not real.”

He runs his palm over the paper flower, and out of nowhere, it catches fire. Sascha drops it quickly, and watches the flames swallow the crepe paper.

“What… how do you do the things?” he breathes out.

“If I told you, it would no longer be magic,” Andrey smiles.

Magic. For them, magic had a different meaning. What they did in the ring were tricks, they were for other people. But magic existed, and they knew it. They lived it every day. Magic was in the chilly mornings, and the frozen ground under the wheels of their wagons, in that strange, smoky aroma of the air, in the way the big top shone from the inside, magic was inside the fortune teller’s tent - not when it was open to curious girls from the villages, but in the evening, when she made them strong black tea and had them drink it unsweetened, and then read their fortunes from the leaves.

“Everyone’s going to tell you to stop this, and you’re going to be sick of it soon,” Andrey says, and it somehow sounds like he’s reading his future now, but it’s just that he knows the circus so well he can predict what people are going to say or do. “So I’m not going to tell you that.”

“You’re the one who should be telling me that,” Sascha objects. “The only one that has that right.”

Andrey gives him his signature sad smile, and then he jumps down.

“I love you,” he says. “That’s all you need to know. Make of that what you will.”

~ ~ ~

Dominic waits at their secret place for more than an hour, but Sascha doesn’t show up. Dominic wants to slap himself. He shouldn’t have said all that nonsense. He probably scared him, even more than the boy was already scared.

He finally gets up and heads to the circus. He needs to make things right.

The place is still alive despite the rather late hour. The carousel is playing its loud music and the blond boy is taking invisible money from the children that pout too much. Dominic looks around. He doesn’t see Sascha anywhere. But what is worse is that Daniil and Karen see him, and they do not look pleased.

Daniil gets up from the wooden crates they are sitting on, and blocks his path. “Go home,” he says. “You’re not welcome.”

Dominic isn’t sure that it won’t earn him a knife between the ribs, but in a sudden surge of boldness, he raises his eyes to him. “You don’t own this circus, nor the people in him.”

Daniil grabs him by the front of his shirt, and while Karen gets up from the crates at this point, he doesn’t do anything to stop him.

“Daniil!” an unfamiliar voice says, and then Andrey appears from behind the wagon on Dominic’s right.

For some reason, while Daniil and Karen look much scarier, before Andrey, Dominic has much more respect. He feels somehow guilty. Like he is indeed stealing something from the boy. Like he is the reason behind that sad glimmer in his eyes.

The three of them start to argue in the language Dominic doesn’t understand. Then Karen pulls Daniil away. Daniil goes, but not before spitting on the ground and shooting a hateful glance at Dominic.

Andrey looks at Dominic, and then steps aside, making an inviting gesture with his arm, like he is offering Dominic the world.

And Dominic understands why Andrey lets him win this battle.

Because he can’t lose the war.

~ ~ ~

He finds Sascha sitting on the ground behind one wagon. When he sees Dominic, he almost startles.

“What are you doing here?” he asks. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“You didn’t come,” Dominic says. “I was worried.”

“Someone’s going to see you.”

“They’ve already seen me,” Dominic says. “I think Daniil is disappointed that Andrey didn’t let him kill me.”

He crouches next to him. Sascha doesn’t move. There is something tense in the way he’s hugging his knees. It’s like he’s trying to hide from something here.

“Sascha,” Dominic says. “What are you afraid of?”

Sascha shakes his head, and keeps his eyes lowered even when Dominic gently pushes his chin up.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” Dominic whispers. “I promise.”

“That’s not what I’m afraid of,” Sascha says. “I’m used to that. I’m afraid of hurting others.”

He wipes off the tears welling up in the corners of his eyes, and then he finally looks at him. “If I leave, I’ll hurt Andrey, because he loves me. I’ll hurt my father because he will lose another son. I’ll hurt everyone who depends on that deal. I’ll hurt Daniil and Karen, because they’re my friends…”

“But that’s them,” Dominic objects. “What about you, Sascha? What about your life?”

Sascha shrugs. It’s like he doesn’t know what to think. Like he’s not used to take himself into consideration.

Dominic has already figured out that the circus was a sticky spiderweb that didn’t like to release the flies that got stuck to it. But at the same time, the spiderweb was Sascha’s home, the only home he knew. Dominic would have to offer him something better than empty promises.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Dominic says and pulls Sascha up. “I feel like everyone around is listening.”

“They probably are,” Sascha smiles sadly.

Dominic leads him through the fields that are turning golden now. It will soon be time for haymaking.

“What about you?” Sascha asks. “What are you running from?”

Dominic frowns. “Me?”

“You want me to run away with you. That means you’re running away as well. But from what?”

Dominic hesitates. He hasn’t really thought about it that way. What Sascha is saying actually makes sense. It’s him who didn’t think this through. They couldn’t stay in their town, that’s for sure.

“I…”

“See, you don’t want to run away,” Sascha whispers and shakes his head. “You want me to stay, but you don’t want to run away.”

“I want to be with you,” Dominic says. “If it means running away, I’ll do it.”

“But I don’t want you to!” Sascha exclaims. “Your life is here. I don’t want to be the one that ruins it.”

“Sascha!” Dominic says and runs to catch up with him, because Sascha has started down the road that leads back to the circus. “I admit that I said it because… it was an idea, it just came to my mind. But I really want to be with you. And if I don’t spend my life in my father’s bakery, maybe it’s for the better. It’s not my dream anyway. I just need time to think this through. Please.”

Sascha turns to him. “We don’t have time,” he whispers, tears glistening in his eyes. “We’re leaving the day after tomorrow.”

Dominic sucks in a sharp breath. “Already?”

Sascha nods. “This is a small town,” he says, although it’s clear that he knows why they are in such hurry.

“It doesn’t matter,” Dominic says and takes his hand. “I’ll think it through quickly, then.”

Sascha shakes his head. “Just come to say goodbye,” he says.

“I’ll come and take you with me, I promise,” Dominic says and kisses him.

They walk in silence for a while.

“It will be better if… you don’t come back with me,” Sascha says when they can see the lights of their camp. “I don’t want to pour more oil in the fire.”

Dominic nods and looks at him. “Wait for me,” he says.

Sascha gives him a small smile and a nod, and then runs towards the lights.

~ ~ ~

Sascha almost thinks he’s managed to sneak in unnoticed, but then two figures block his path. Alex, who has his number with Marat, and thinks highly of himself because of it, despite being just his sidekick, grabs Sascha’s arm and pulls him into the shadows of the wagons. Sascha notices Marat standing there, leaning over the wheel nonchalantly, like he is just making sure Alex does what he’s supposed to do.

“The ringmaster was right,” Alex says. “You never learn yourself, you need things to be beaten into you.”

Sascha makes a step back. “What do you mean?”

Alex grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him closer. “Your brother nearly destroyed us. None of us are letting you do the same, you understand?”

“I’m not-“ Sascha starts, and then gasps when Alex pushes him against the side of the wagon, hard.

“Alex,” Marat says warningly. “Don’t hurt him, or we’re down an act, and the ringmaster will kill you.”

When Alex grabs him again and holds his arms behind his back, it crosses Sascha’s mind that he should fight back, but for some reason, he can’t bring himself to put up any resistance. He even believes, somewhere deep in his mind, that he deserves this.

Alex pulls him over to the barrel where they keep water for the animals and for general washing.

“Your father obviously had no clue how to bring up his children,” Marat says, folding his arms. “Seems like we’ll have to correct his mistakes.”

He gives a nod and Alex grabs Sascha by the nape of his neck and forces his head underwater. It takes a couple seconds, it’s more like a taste of what is coming, but Sascha still gasps for air when Alex lets him up.

“Your brother didn’t know his place, and it seems like you’re turning out just as spoiled,” Marat says.

“Don’t talk about Mischa!” Sascha manages to spit out before Alex pushes his head down again.

Help comes from an unexpected side. At first, Sascha doesn’t see who it is that grabs Alex from behind and pulls him back. But when his vision clears, he thinks that he’s hallucinating.

“Let go of him!” Denis says and stands between them and Sascha.

Alex scoffs before making a step forward again. Denis extends his arms, placing his palms on Alex’ chest and pushing him back.

“Hey! I said leave him alone!”

“Stay out of it, Denis!” Alex barks.

Denis doesn’t move an inch. “Or what? You’ll break me even more than I’m already broken?” he asks. “Go ahead.”

Alex mutters something under his breath, shooting an uneasy glance at Marat.

“I’ve seen Death,” Denis hisses at them. “We talked. I’m not afraid of you.”

Alex actually makes a step back this time. Marat shakes his head in disbelief.

“Mind your own business, Denis, or…”

“You mind your own business,” Andrey says, stepping out of the shadows and standing by Denis’ side. “This is between me and Sascha.”

“We’re doing this on your behalf, friend!” Alex objects.

“I didn’t ask you to. And don’t call me your friend.”

Marat and Alex are obviously fuming, and Sascha is convinced they would jump at him once more if there was anyone else standing in their way. But it’s Andrey, and all he has to do is to stand there and shield him with his body, because nobody would touch the prince of the circus.

They turn around and disappear behind the wagon. Sascha wishes he could disappear as well, but instead, he lets Andrey take him in his arms and push back the wet strands of his hair.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I’m sorry, I-“

“No,” Andrey stops him. “Don’t.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Sascha sobs.

Andrey only holds him closer. “That’s up to me to decide,” he says. “And you deserve every piece of me.”

~ ~ ~

Dominic can’t sleep at night. He keeps thinking about what he promised Sascha. And even more about what Sascha told him. Leaving everything behind for a boy he barely knows sounds like madness, and his reason is screaming at him not to do it. Reason is telling him that he belongs here, in his parents’ bakery, and Sascha belongs at the circus. His heart, however, is telling him something completely different.

He thinks about it all the way to the market, and the more he does, the more he realizes that he has reasons for running away. Unless he wants to spend his life as a mule pulling the cart to the market, it’s high time he does something about his life. Running away and trying his luck somewhere else just suddenly seems tempting. Even more when he imagines having Sascha by his side. And he realizes that they don’t need a plan. They are young and free, and all they have to do is run. Their destiny will find them.

“Dominic! What are thinking about, boy?” his aunt reprimands him when he almost misses the turn that should take them to the marketplace.

_If only you knew_ , he thinks.

He spends the entire day thinking about it, and handing the customers wrong things in the process. The hours seem to be twice as long. He can’t wait to be gone, can’t wait to take Sascha’s hand and just run.

When they pack the rest of the goods and clean the stand for the day, it’s late in the afternoon. Dominic wishes he could just throw everything away and go, but he knows that he has to take the cart home and grab his things, and then sneak out.

He spots a group of children running in the direction of the circus, to catch the last ride on the carousel before it’s gone. He stops one of the boys and gives him a note, instructing him to give it to Sascha. The note is short.

_Wait for me at our place after dark. I’m going away, and I’m not leaving without you._

The sun is setting when they finally arrive home. Dominic goes to his room immediately, because he’s worried his family could tell he was up to something. And he wants to avoid explaining things. He knows that it’s probably really cowardly, but he prefers sending them a letter from somewhere far away.

When it starts to get dark, he sneaks through the back door, jumps over the fence of their garden, and heads to the stream.

~ ~ ~

Sascha has been standing at the painted gate for so long he can’t feel his legs. The Big Top is no longer standing and everything has been packed in the crates, waiting to be loaded onto the wagons. He was supposed to help with taking down the painted wooden boards around the big top, but he was so useless Denis did it instead of him, and now Sascha feels guilty, because Denis is the last one that should carry heavy things.

He was pretty reconciled with the idea of leaving. Running away was foolish, and he knew that Dominic would realize it sooner or later. He had his entire life here.

He was just hoping for a goodbye. No matter that they never said goodbye at the circus because it meant bad luck, like so many other things, he desperately wanted it. Once, just once he wanted to have a proper goodbye. He thought he was worth it for Dominic.

The windows in the wagons are going dark one by one. Sascha turns back from the gate and wipes his eyes on his sleeve, because he can’t even see where he’s going through the tears. Suddenly, someone’s arm wraps around his shoulders. He blinks and looks at the ringmaster.

“You’re sleeping in our wagon tonight,” the ringmaster says. “Your father agrees.”

Sascha looks over to Andrey, who is leaning over the painted doorframe, biting his nails, and then turns to their wagon, where his father is standing on the stairs.

He doesn’t meet his eyes.

~ ~ ~

Cold wakes Dominic up, and for a moment, he doesn’t know where he is. He’s lying in the wet grass by the stream. He must have fallen asleep there last night. He quickly looks around. He’s alone.

He crawls over to the stream and splashes cold water in his face. The memories of last night are slowly coming back to him. He waited there for hours, watched the lights of the tent go out. Sascha didn’t come.

He gets up from the grass and picks up his bag. He’s tempted to just return home and forget about it all. Maybe Sascha lost the courage. Maybe in the end, he chose his family and friends at the circus. Maybe… maybe he chose Andrey in the end.

The last thought makes him clench his teeth. Whatever it was, he deserves to know.

He runs until he reaches the road, and heads towards the circus. He knows the way by heart, he could find it with his eyes closed. Only when he lifts his eyes this time, he doesn’t see the painted gate.

There is nothing but stomped grass and a broken paper rose lying on the ground, the morning dew slowly consuming the crepe paper.

~/~

**Summer of 1925**

_And where have all the bridges gone  
_ _And young lovers burning bright_  
_You can only see them  
_ _Under the blanket of the night_

The sun is scorching the grass at the side of the road. Dominic pulls the straw hat down to further shade his eyes. The bag on his shoulder feels heavier than before.

Since he’s left the town for Vienna, he never came back here. He merely sent letters to his family. The responses that came were angry at first, but turned more pleasant when his parents learned he’d actually found a good job and a decent place to live. This summer, he’s finally mustered up enough courage to face them again.

He takes the turn that will take him back to his hometown. Then he stops in his tracks. It feels like he’s thrown back in time.

The white and red of the circus tent look almost blinding in the late afternoon sun, and the distant voices and music are calling him. Before he knows it, he’s walking through the painted gate. 

He doesn’t know if it’s his memory failing him, but something feels different. He sees the same wagons and the same people, but it’s like there is a veil over it all. Like he’s walked into someone else’s dream.

Andrey is sitting at a makeshift table made of one of the crates, with a blond boy dressed in a strange mixture of costume and regular clothes. Dominic remembers the boy, Denis, from the carousel. He’s holding a stack of cards, watching Andrey as he breaks down the trick, repeating the movements after him. Dominic almost feels like he should look away, like he shouldn’t know the secret.

When Andrey notices him, he gets up slowly and walks up to him.

“He’s not here,” he says, and Dominic’s heart breaks because he understands, not from the words, but from Andrey’s voice and the sorrow in his eyes that he doesn’t mean here at the circus. He means that he’s not on this earth anymore.

Dominic tries to swallow, but there is something lodged in his throat that only allows him to croak one word. “How-”

“Consumption,” Andrey says. “A year after we left. It went fast.”

Dominic takes a deep breath. His whole being wants to cry, but for some reason, he can’t.

“I owe you an apology,” Andrey says. “After all, it was me who stole him from you.”

Dominic shakes his head. “He chose you over me.”

“I used to believe it,” Andrey smiles. “Until Karen told me about the letter.”

“The letter?”

“Your letter. The one you gave to that little boy. Daniil burned it. Sascha never knew.”

Dominic has to sit on one of the wooden crates. That night comes back, flooding his mind. He made himself forget it, he told himself that Sascha had every right to make that choice.

“He thought-“

“Daniil and Karen gave the boy a coin to buy some sweets and get a ride on the carousel, so that he would forget, and then Daniil burned the note. Karen only told me after Sascha’s death. The guilt was eating him up.”

“He was probably cursing me,” Dominic whispers, more to himself. “He must have thought I betrayed him.”

Andrey shakes his head. “No. He never spoke of you again. I think he thought of you sometimes… but he would never admit it.”

Dominic runs a hand over his face. The organ music is playing from the carousel, but this time, it doesn’t sound cheerful.

“I won on this earth, you’d deserve to win in Heaven,” Andrey says. “But as it seems, I am beating you to it yet again.”

Only then it hits Dominic, only then it makes sense. The feverish glint in Andrey’s eyes, the sickly pallor, the too-bright rose tint on his cheeks. And the boy with the cards. _A magician never reveals his tricks to anyone._

Unless he knows that he’s dying.

“The old Gypsy once told me that wherever Sascha would go, I would follow a step behind,” Andrey says. “She was right. She was always right.” 

He offers Dominic his hand. Dominic hesitates, because this still feels surreal, but then he takes it.

“We always say ‘see you down the road’, but I think it’s safe to say goodbye now,” Andrey says.

“Goodbye,” Dominic says, and his voice shakes just as much as his hand.

He doesn’t turn back, he doesn’t get back on the road that would lead him home. He runs through the fields, and then to the stream, until he’s completely out of breath and he can’t run anymore. He leans over a tree then, and doesn’t move even when darkness falls.

Before he falls asleep, he watches the lights of the Big Top go out in the distance. For one last time.


End file.
